


Eavesdrop

by FancyKid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Riverlands, but its fine I promise, im sorry, live journal sansan fest 2015, no actual sansan interaction, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKid/pseuds/FancyKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Sandor and Arya are on the run in the Riverlands. During one stay, Sandor mentions Sansa at some point, and clever Arya figures out how smitten Sandor has been with Sansa. She's totally aghast at first and teases Sandor, but she slowly starts to see how serious Sandor is about the matter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Live Journal for Sansan Fest 2015! Thought I posted it here a while ago. Just a short little thing, hope you enjoy!

“You know you talk in your sleep?”

The Hound looked at her from across the table, his face blank beneath his hood. “No.”

“Well, I’m telling you - and you do.”

The innkeep brought over two horns of ale then, effectively changing whatever Arya just said into the least interesting piece of information the Hound had ever heard in his life. He grabbed his ale and started to guzzle it down. _Too fast_ , she thought. Arya hoped he would have learned his lesson. She asked the innkeep for some water and food but was distracted by the sound of the door opening again. _Gods please don’t be trouble._ Arya tried not to, but she had already warmed up to the idea of sleeping inside tonight. She didn’t need anyone coming in and giving them trouble like they had gotten into last time they ventured indoors. They’d barely gotten out with their lives and now here he was, drinking like a fish, doomed to repeat what happened at the inn at the crossroads.

Ever since that day, she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. It wasn’t from killing The Tickler; finally checking a name off her list, getting needle back, she should have slept like a baby. But ever since that day, the Hound kept her up with his grumbling in the middle of the night. With her lack of sleep on top of her hunger, she didn’t know how she kept herself from trying to kill him again.

They’d gone two days without much to eat at all; their makeshift snares coming up empty in the mornings. She found some mushrooms on the side of the road this afternoon and was so hungry that she almost stuffed them right in her mouth. Would have too, if the Hound didn’t swipe the poison out of her hand. He mumbled the rest of the day about not getting his ransom money if he showed up with her thrown limp across the back of his horse instead of riding upright on top of it.

“Ransom money.” She huffed. “Where the hell do you plan on getting that anymore? Anyone who might give a shit about me is dead.”

For that, he had no answer.

Coming upon the nearly run down inn that night was like a blessing. What made it even better was the fact that it was empty. _Until now, at least_. Arya looked over her shoulder to the opening door and watched as a single figure came through. The man was in a heavy cloak, hood drawn over his face, hunched over and clearly haggard. She quickly calculated that such a man could not be a threat. She could see that the Hound thought the same when she turned back to him, but his ugly face was somehow hidden even deeper beneath his hood as he went for his second ale.

“You sure you want to drink so much so fast? Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

The Hound eyed her over the rim of his mug. “Do you see my brother’s men in here?”

Arya rolled her eyes and slouched down, resting her head against the back of the booth. The only sound was the crackle of the fire, the innkeep’s muted footsteps and the Hound’s loud gulping as he more or less funneled the ale down his throat. Arya closed her eyes and yawned through her question. “Who’s the little bird?”

“What?” He roared at her, slamming his empty mug on the table between them.

Arya nearly jumped out of her seat. She wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. She watched him eye her as she explained. “ _Little bird. Little bird_.” She laughed, trying to mimic the rasping voice of his that erupted through his snores every night. “You say it a dozen times a night. Ever since the inn at the crossroads.”

Even in the dim candlelight, she could see the whites of his eyes as the beast of a man glared at her with a murderous stare that she hadn’t seen from him since that very day. She’d clearly struck a nerve with that, and she couldn’t even attempt to hide her smirk as she continued.

“It’s a woman right? It has to be.” She pressed, as the innkeep finally brought over a tray with two bowls of what looked like some sort of stew, two more horns of ale as he was ordered to keep supplying upon their entry, and a water for her.

Arya dug into her bowl immediately, finding it tasteless, but pleasantly warm. “So tell me about her.” She started, chewing on a greasy, but blessedly tender piece of - _could it be chicken?_ “Who the hell is she?” She mumbled with a full mouth before swallowing. She shivered with the glorious warmth that hit the bottom of her stomach. “Whoever it is, you obviously care a lot about her.”

“Is that right?” The Hound muttered, ignoring his food and preferring his third helping of ale.

“ _I_ think so.” She told him. “You’ve been grumbling _little bird_ in your sleep, usually right before you wake up growling or holding your knife – ready to strike.”

She saw the way his knuckles whitened around the handle of his mug and decided with a sigh to let the matter rest, at least for a while. _At least until he finishes another ale._

She kept her head down in her bowl, scraping up every morsel of tasteless carrot and potato. She counted three whole pieces of chicken before she emptied the rest her bowl and looked back at the man across from her. _This night is turning out better than I thought. A man like Sandor Clegane couldn’t have a secret lover could he?_ She covered a giggle with a forced cough. He caught it, but she couldn’t help herself. The idea was laughable! But so hysterically intriguing at the same time. She had to know more about it.

She drank her water and watched him while he took two spoonfuls of his stew, but he eventually went right back to his ale. She waited until he was near finished with his fourth to bring it up again.

“This _little bird_ of yours. She as ugly as you?” The man just snorted. Arya decided that either meant she was right, or way off. Either way, he still wasn’t giving her anything, no matter how quickly the ale hit his brain. So she tried a different approach, taking her first guess. “Is she your favorite whore?”

His fist came slamming down on the table, making Arya start. “Don’t call her that.” He rasped, finally giving her his attention. Arya squirmed in her seat, trying not to get too excited. She was onto something - that much was clear.

She put up her hands in defense. “Alright, no need to get testy. Didn’t think you’d be able to care about anyone besides yourself, is all.”

“Well, I couldn’t care enough, could I?” Arya felt her eyes widen as he sneered at her again. “Couldn’t care enough to take her out of there. Now it’s too fucking late.”

 _Out of there_ … Arya sat up in her seat. “You mean King’s Landing?” The Hound merely blinked at her, mug at his lips. “Did she…did she die? In the mess during the battle?”

He huffed into the mug. “Worse.” He mumbled before downing the rest.

“What’s worse than being killed?” _Being stuck with the Hound_ , she thought, but for some reason she kept it in her mind. This was the most interesting conversation they ever had. She wasn’t going to put her foot in her mouth and stop it right when it was getting so good. She waited another moment before approaching more gently. “What happened?”

He slammed his fourth empty horn of ale heavy onto the table. “I left her.”

 _And that’s a bad thing?_ Again, Arya felt it better not to say exactly what she was thinking. She just had to know who this little bird was. “She might be better off without you, don’t you think?” His mouth twitched as he stared down at his bowl before finally picking up the spoon. “No offense, but you haven’t really been able to keep yourself out of harm’s way here.” She gestured to his newly seared arm and the deep gash cut into him from the fight that was, surprisingly, beginning to heal.

“Anything’s better than what happened to her.” He mumbled, almost too quiet.

Arya sighed, starting to get frustrated. “ _Who is she_?” He ignored her again. She seemed to get something out of him when she guessed before, so she had to try again. “So she wasn’t a whore. You made that perfectly clear.”

Arya hummed and sat back in her seat as the innkeep brought over two more mugs. The Hound picked one up and sniffed it. He made a face before slamming it down and sliding it over to her. Water sloshed out over the sides. Arya rolled her eyes as she drank her water. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and he slammed down his fifth ale. _Seven hells. He’s already completely pissed._

His eyes were starting to get bleary. She knew she had to ask more before he passed out right there at the table. “Would I have known her?”

The Hound leaned back in his seat and belched loud enough to shake the empty mugs on the table. Arya looked over her shoulder to see the man who had come in, turn back around and away from them in his own booth across the way. The Hound continued to ignore her as she went on speculating. “I only knew highborn ladies at the keep. Surely no highborn lady would be fit for your company.”

She watched his face carefully to find any sign of a crack in his walls. And it was there. When she said highborn. A twitch in the corner of his mouth. Arya sat on her hands to contain her excitement.  “ _Oh no_. She _was_ highborn, wasn’t she?”

The man brought up his eyes to glare at her, but he couldn’t scare her anymore. _Who could it be?_ Arya wracked her brain to think of the daft women that she had been introduced to, but she was certain she’d forgotten their names after the very first meeting. The only ones she could remember were Princess Myrcella and Sansa. _Surely not either of them. Unless…_

A thought flashed through her mind and she found herself screwing up her face in disgust. “Don’t tell me Queen Cersei was fucking her brother _and_ the Hound.”

The Hound froze, but only for half a second before he let out the most rasping, deep and raucous laugh she had ever heard. She couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. No matter how she hated him, it had been a long time since she’d heard the sound of laughter.

“Alright, then.” Arya said as she bit back her grin. “ _Not_ Cersei.”

He snorted again, finding his composure. “Not Cersei, wolf girl.”

She didn’t know how, but he almost seemed content in playing along with her little game now that he was truly pissed.

“Hmmm…” _Who could it be?_ _Little bird… Little bird…_

And there it was. Staring her straight in the face. As soon as he called her wolf girl. She heard his voice call her that an earlier time. A time when he had also mentioned _the pretty bird…little bird…_

Arya shot out of her seat. “Sansa! You mean Sansa!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see where Arya digging into Sandor's business gets her!

The Hound reached across the table with a speed she wasn’t expecting, covering her mouth with one hand, forcing her back into her seat with the other. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. You complained about wanting to stay at the inn tonight, you’ll do as I say or we’ll need to ride through the bleeding night again to get away from the attention you’re drawing.”

Arya nodded, her eyes wide in shock as he reluctantly let go of her and fell back into his seat. She straightened up and tried to keep quiet as she went on.

“Ugh _of course_ you would like Sansa. She’s so stupid. Well she’s pretty enough for the both of you I guess.” She sputtered out a laugh. The thought of the two of them together made her double over in laughter. Until… “ _Ew.”_ She felt her face screw up in disgust. “Does she…did she… _like you_ too?” That’s not all she meant by asking. But she didn’t dare put _that_ into words. Thankfully, he seemed to pick up on it too.

The Hound let a cruel snort. “Look at my face and ask yourself that question again.”

“Hmm.” _Well that answers that_. “I guess you’re right.” Arya squirmed in her seat again and leaned forward toward him as he drank. “Still, I just…I just can’t picture it. Sansa - the one who followed Joffrey around like a little puppy. Well, I guess you did that too.” She ignored his glare as she went on. “But, you just seem like you hate all that bullshit that goes on in the capitol. And Sansa couldn’t get enough of it! How could _you_ like someone so _stupid_?”

“I don’t think you know your sister as well as you think you do.” He finally growled through his teeth.

Arya felt her face screw up as her voice got louder. “What - and you do?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?”

“No. But you still aren’t making any sense -”

“All I’m saying is that she’s not as bloody useless as you think she is.

“What are you talking about? She’s _my_ sister.” She nearly yelled at him.

She could see his eyes widen under his hood as his volume rose to meet hers. “And you were good friends, were you?” He sneered at her, mockingly. “I remember seeing you two together - or rather, as far from each other as you could manage on the bloody road south.”

“You don’t know-“

“I saw her last, didn’t I?” He barked, cutting off her protest. “Had to watch her go through all that shit in the capitol. You didn’t have to see that.”

He was quiet for another minute as the innkeep came over with another two horns of ale. The Hound finished half of the first one as Arya stirred through the now cold fat concealing on the bottom of her bowl. He was quiet for so long that Arya nearly forgot what they were talking about. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to continue on with the same topic.

“Night and day the two of you. You –“ He pointed at her. “You little shit, you can’t hold your temper. Your thoughts are written right on your face all the bleeding time. You’re either pissed off or murderous. That’s all there is to you.” Arya gave him a hard glare, showing him how correct he was. “Your sister on the other hand…” He looked past her, probably remembering Sansa’s pretty face. “Your sister was under Joffrey’s constant scrutiny. Cersei’s. She had to learn what to say, when to say it, and when to keep her pretty mouth shut. She had to pretend to be bloody pleased that your father’s head was chopped off right in front of her eyes. Did you ever think of that?”

Arya tried, but couldn’t avoid the twitch that ran through her spine and came out through her shoulders, chiding herself for proving his point about her emotions. He leaned forward, breathing his stale ale breath right into her face. In his drunken state, he got louder with every word, but she couldn’t find it in herself to shut him up.

“Imagine having to pretend that you were _in love_ with that shit Joffrey. It was obvious that you hated the prick ever since that business with your wolf. You didn’t have to hide the way you felt. But imagine pretending to love that fucker after he had your pet killed. Imagine pretending to love him while he made you look at your father’s rotting head on a spike, while he had you stripped and beaten in front of the whole fucking court, when he threatened your brother’s life. Imagine pretending to love him when he didn’t give two shits if you got raped by half a hundred fuckers during the riot in flea bottom.”

The rage in his eyes shifted, and he blinked before leaning slowly back into his seat. “She’s stronger than you give her credit for, that girl.” He picked up his ale and held it to his lips. “Stronger than you ever could be.” He muttered, before drowning himself in his mug again.

The silence in the room reverberated through Arya’s ears as he gulped it down. She didn’t realize just how loud they had been until it was quiet. She peered around to see the man in the robe, focused on his own bowl, studiously ignoring them. The innkeep must have been in the kitchen. The Hound didn’t seem to notice too much though, going for his sixth ale of the night, still having barely touched his food. Before he could bring himself to drink, he started on another rant. His voice was softer, somehow, if that was even possible.

“And through off of that shit, she still found it in herself to show me kindness.” He snorted forcefully, jolting the mug in his hand, effectively spilling ale all over the front of him. And he didn’t even notice. “Thrust my knife under her pretty little throat to force a song out of her. What does she do? Sings a bloody prayer. _For me_.” He snorted again, his eyes twice as bleary and turning red all of a sudden. “And I left her there. Left her there for the imp.”

She watched him swallow hard, saw a muscle in his neck twitch. His eyes were glazed over in the dark of his hood. Under his scars he looked deathly pale. It almost looked like he was going to be sick.

“Eat something, would you.” Arya pushed his bowl of stew closer. “Don’t need you throwing up all over the bloody place.”

For once, the man in front of her did as he was bid, finally digging into his food. _Probably too late_ , she thought. He’s definitely going to be winesick in the morning, in the very least.

So The Hound was… _what? Infatuated…obsessed? With Sansa?_ Whatever it was, it obviously wasn’t something that he could be teased about, no matter how she had tried. It was such a weird thought and she needed the time to wrap her head around everything that he said. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear his voice rasping about a song. _You idiot._ Arya felt her face fall as she realized it.

He’d told her, more than once, about Sansa singing a song for him. He always made it seem like she had wanted to do it. But he finally just admitted that how he had made her. _Could he have hurt her?_ But one look at his miserable face at the thought of Sansa being beaten, she could see it wasn’t true.

She watched him as he ate, painfully slowly, and waited what seemed like forever until he was finished. “What do you mean _left her there_?”

He took another, gratefully slow, drink of his ale before answering her. “I tried to take her out of that place, didn’t I? Tried to get her to come with me when I turned and fled. But no. Even fucked that up. Scared the shit out of her and then I ran.”

Another thought came to her. “ _Gods._ So, you… you _dream_ about her? That’s why you say _little bird_ in your sleep.”

“Dream? I don’t know. Can you call reliving through every fucking time I stood by and watch them beat her a dream? What about her being fucked bloody by the imp?” He snorted again, mirthlessly, slurring his words in earnest now. “No. I don’t dream about her. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Arya sat back in her seat. “Seven hells.”

“What?” He snarled at her.

“You’re in love with her.”

The Hound sputtered out a cruel laugh. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s just - the way you’re talking about her. The look on your face. Gods, you look like Sansa when she still thought she loved Joffrey. You’re in love with my sister.”

The Hound lifted his mug up to his lips in an attempt to hide his scowl. Arya was honestly surprised her that he had nothing to argue against. It seemed as though he never thought about it in those terms, but it was so obvious now; there was no denying it. _So it’s true then. Seven hells._

It was such an easy thing to laugh at when she thought it was just about her beauty. But with the way he spoke about her - her strength, her courage, her kindness - it was clear there was something more.

“It would fit perfectly in one of her songs wouldn’t it? The ugly Hound and the fair maiden-“ She cut herself off. “Well, I guess she wouldn’t be a _maiden_ anymore. Not with being…” She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat remembering what he just said about the imp. “…not with being _Lady Lannister_ now.”

She just couldn’t believe it - what the Mountain’s men told the Hound - Sansa and Tyrion Lannister _married_. Working together to kill Joffrey. It had to be true that Sansa had disappeared after everything had happened. _That part_ she believed. But she had been so focused on Joffrey actually being dead that she didn’t give her sister more than a second’s thought. Until now, anyway. She had never really _liked_ Sansa when they were together. But she was her only sister. All of a sudden Arya felt like her insides were being torn apart all anew. _Father is dead. Mother is dead. My brothers are dead._ The only family she had left were Jon and Sansa. Sansa - a hostage of the crown. _Tortured by Joffrey. Married to the imp!_ And now, just the thought of her helpless older sister out on the run… _it’s hopeless._

“What do you think happened to her?” Arya looked down at the table, finding a pattern in the grain to focus on. “She’s probably dead.” She heard herself say. She hardened her features that had gone soft before raising her head to look at the Hound. “What do you think?”

When Arya saw his face, she knew he had not heard a word she said.

His bloodshot eyes were as wide as saucers, his back was as straight as a rod, and his jaw was clenched so hard that she was sure his teeth were going to crumble to pieces. But he wasn’t looking at her.

Arya turned around in her seat, looking out of the booth and behind her to where his stare was fixed.

The man who had entered the inn after them was no longer in his seat. He was walking toward them, coming up slowly behind her. No longer hunched and haggard, but walking gracefully - almost gliding -across the floor. As he came closer, she could see that it was no man at all. Arya’s breath left her as the woman lowered her hood to reveal her fair and all too familiar features. “ _Sansa_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> At some point I would like to continue this, but I literally have no clue what I would do!


End file.
